


What Goes Around Comes Around

by allaire mikháil (allaire)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Betrayal, Civil War Team Iron Man, Gen, Not Steve-Friendly, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers is morally bankrupt, Team Cap is full of shit, actions have consequences, if the SHRA comes it'll be Team Cap's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allaire/pseuds/allaire%20mikh%C3%A1il
Summary: Remember that scene where Captain America staged an ambush on Iron Man during the comic!verse's version of the Civil War? This is the MCU mirror version.





	What Goes Around Comes Around

"I came alone like you demanded," the electronic voice of Iron Man announces curtly. The suit hovers just a moment longer before it sets down in front of Steve.

Iron Man's iconic look has changed, Steve notices. There’s far less gold and especially red these days; the majority of the suit is colored a matte black. If possible, it’s even more sleek and streamlined, although Steve would bet that it’s one of Tony’s full combat armors, not one of his briefcase ones. There’s no longer an arc reactor set into the breastplate. Even though the new suit is not bristling with obvious armaments like the War Machine armor, it looks dangerous. Threatening.

 _That’s because of me_ , he thinks, an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. _Because the last time Tony came alone to meet up with me, I almost killed him._

The night is quiet and still around them. The only sound is the slight creaking of the ruins of the destroyed house around them.

"I’m not here for the scenery, Rogers. Or the company. So how about you start talking why you pretty much begged me for this meeting?”

Tony raises the faceplate.

His features look unchanged from two years ago, albeit perhaps slightly more tired. The sardonic curl of his mouth is familiar, but the icy contempt in his eyes is new.

"Before that, though, be aware, Rogers, that as soon as Friday detects anyone outside the two of us in the vicinity, I’m gone. Before your pet witch assaults me, or any other of the ‘Avengers that are more mine than yours’ manages to stab me in the back.” The sarcasm is sharp enough to cut.

Steve flinches. "We’re still your friends, Tony. No matter how much our ideologies differ, we would never hurt you.”

Tony’s face screws up in a grimace. "You ‘would never hurt me’? Do you ever _think_ before you open your mouth, Rogers, or is it amnesia?” The incredulous, cutting tone hurts. "Siberia ringing a bell? Where you and your bestest buddy beat me up until I couldn’t fucking _move_ and left me behind for fate to deal with me as it saw fit? It’s by pure luck alone that neither the injuries you inflicted on me nor the freezing temperatures managed to kill me, and that HYDRA didn’t come back to finish the job.”

Steve feels like shit, and even more so in the light of what he has planned. Still, no matter what the world may say, they’re not the bad guys here. Ross is. The people who drafted the new law currently stuck in the Senate are. The UN who paved the way for the so-called ‘Registration Act’ is. All of the collaborators among the superheroes are, especially Tony’s so-called ‘New Avengers’.

He raises a hand to shove back his cowl and tries a friendly smile in Tony’s direction. "I need your help, Tony.” A ranting Tony is a distracted Tony. _I don’t have anything to feel guilty for. I’m doing this for everyone – even Tony._ Steve starts counting down the seconds in his head.

The night flashes brightly in two colors – a blueish white and red.

Twin rays of light hit Iron Man in the chest. The EMP that T’Challa’s scientists swore would overcome even the most sophisticated shielding, and the accompanying twin blast of Wanda’s powers that she’d prepped the EMP gun with.

For a long, breathless moment, nothing happens.

Then the eldritch lightning arcs of twinned white and red get _swallowed_ up by a surge of warm, golden light. Arcane symbols sketch themselves in the air and fade away again, leaving behind afterimages on Steve’s retinas that make him strain to see.

Steve gets a glimpse of the expression on Tony’s face and wishes he hadn’t. Tony’s teeth are bared, and he looks _murderous_. But even that pales to insignificance next to the pain that rushes through him. The pain that makes another voice cry out in sharp agony before the man – _Scott,_ Steve realizes dimly, _Scott who grew back to normal size in order to fire the EMP gun just as we'd planned_ – chokes to silence on a groan.

There’s a high ringing in the air. Steve doubts anyone but him would be able to hear it. It cuts, saws, through his flesh and bones, resonates in his teeth, his eyes, his brain. There’s no tell-tale trickle of blood from his mouth or nose, but how can something _hurt_ this much and not leave a physical trace?

He feels his muscles lock. Oh, not all of them; after all, he’s still breathing. He can still see, even though his field of vision has shrunk to a dim, washed-out world without much color or detail that reminds him of how it used to be before the serum. But he cannot _move_ , cannot turn, cannot call out for help on the miniscule comm unit hidden high in the collar of his tactical vest. He feels himself topple on feet that feel numb and frozen and fears crashing to the debris-covered floor like a felled tree.

He can still hear.

He hears the dull thud of a number of more suits landing. Two, would be his guess.

But the shrill sound on the edge of his hearing still tears through him. It’s hard to concentrate. His blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins. He sways unsteadily. Suddenly, his vision is filled with Tony’s face.

 _I’ve been wrong before,_ Steve thinks dimly. Even contempt in Tony’s eyes was far more preferable to the blank nothingness that greets him now.

"What you and Lang are currently experiencing is called a ‘sonic paralyzer’,” Tony informs him coldly. "I thought it fitting to use the very device my godfather ambushed me with when he came to kill me and ripped my heart out of my chest.” He pats Steve’s face, a parody of a smile on his lips. "I knew you’d betray me today, and so I came prepared.”

"See, Rogers, if not for you and your ‘team’, the SHRA wouldn’t have ever been introduced in our country. But _you_ absolutely had to provide a common enemy all sides of the political spectrum could agree to rally against. So I’m taking you and Lang to the UN. You’d deserve it if I handed you over to Ross, but believe it or not, I’m doing this _for all of us_. And that means The Hague for your lot, not a kangaroo court, the Raft and carte blanche to Ross’ plans for recreating the Super Soldier Serum.” Tony turns away.

"Friday, close up Legionnaires eleven and fifteen and fly them to camp. I’ll be right behind you.”

At least the suit closing around Steve cuts the sonic paralyzer’s signal, Steve thinks. The pain cuts off. It’s quiet in here. Quiet and claustrophobic. Like being encased in—in--. He swallows and prays they’ll be at their destination soon, wherever that may be.

He doesn’t witness Iron Man waving pointedly in the direction of the approaching jet with a Wakandan transponder signal before he goes supersonic just a fraction of a second behind the AI-controlled suits containing his two prisoners.


End file.
